It had finally happened. After months of waiting and harried preparations, the last of the Flurry eggs had finally hatched. And it had been a spectacular hatching at that. After the incidences a few weeks before, when the second batch of Flurry dragons had plunged into the world, everyone had been on edge to see what would result from this one.
Mystic Dragon-Audil, Caretaker of the Warren, had been among those eager watchers. Though the war effort had culled her ability to send a candidate to this year's Flurry, she was adamant about attending. Paperwork and council meetings had threatened to hold her back, but Aaron, being the noble prince he was, had taken the blow for her, thus freeing up a small amount of time for her to hop to Ryslen and catch the tail end of the Flurry hatchings. Magika had agreed to accompany the mage in his place, seeing as she'd gotten bored again and needed some entertainment. She was not disappointed.
The third and final hatching of the Flurry dragonets had produced many wonderful pairings, each one unique and more amazing then the last. One particular hatching (two actually) had caught Mystic's attention and held it in thrall. A hydra, not the first, had hatched on the pristine Ryslen sands and bonded to, of all things, a ryshathian! The shock of it had affected Mystic, but not to the extreme that everyone around her seemed to expect. Her shock quickly turned to ire as she was surrounded by a herd of 'discreet' healers, intent on getting close lest she lose consciousness. Magika was no great help, seeing as she was caught between glaring at the hydra and snickering at Mystic's prediciment.
After the last hatchling had broken shell and made its choice, the crowd of on-lookers began to disperse down to the feeding grounds. Mystic went immediately to Jeyann, informing her that she would take the hydra and ryshathian pair back to Tris'Hath with her. Whatever argument the Prima might have had was silenced as Mystic turned and stormed her way down to the feeding grounds, still in a foul mood.
"Why in the nine hells does everyone think I'm so weak?!" The mage fumed to herself as she glowered down at the two rainbow-coloured dragonets who were now in her care. They gazed up at her sedately, all three of Gail'brytrixko's heads and Astriem's one. "It's not like I'm going to faint at the sight of a hatching, even with hydras! I've had my fill of hydras and not one of them has made me faint. Do they even realize that I could blast them to the nine hells and back if I wanted to?"
Magika had been slower in making her exit from the hatching sands, having to collect on a few bets before she could leave. She sauntered through the snow, a full bag of marks jingling at her side. Adanuk's Weyrwoman arrived in time to catch most of Mystic's enraged rant. She raised a brow, regarding her long time friend with a bit of apprehension.
"Um... Mystic?" She butted in, finding that Mystic's burning gaze swung to her immediately. "You're starting to sound a little..."
"What?!" The mage snapped.
"Evil." Magika finished, wincing as she said it. Mystic rolled her eyes expressively and threw up her hands in defeat.
"Wonderful. So if I'm not weak, then I'm evil."
"Well, it was just the whole blasting to the hells and back bit." Magika tried to comfort her friend. She'd never been very good at the whole emotional support thing.
"Well I could! Do they think this is just for show?" She said with a vicious shake of her staff. "I am a mage. I hold in my grasp the power of the gods, and I will do with it what I want to! Whether that be to save a life or blast those damnable hydras to pieces!"
"Mystic?"
"What now?!"
"You're making them cry." Magika motioned with a nod of her head to the two hatchlings, who were in deed crying. Gail'brytixko was doing her best to keep her tears in check and her wails muffled to a few hiccupping snuffles, but it wasn't easy with Astriem bawling his eyes out beside her.
Mystic sighed her frustration, strangling her staff in one hand and balling the other into a fist as she stomped over to where the two tear-eyed hatchlings sat. She threw herself down beside Astriem, disregarding all the grace and elegance that she normally wrapped herself in. Sparing one distrustful glare for Gail', Mystic drew Astriem's head into her lap and began an attempt at calming the young ryshathian.
"There now." She snapped. "You're fine, there's no reason to cry." As she patted his head between his eyeridges, Astriem stifled his wails for a moment. It almost seemed as if he would stop crying altogether, but that was a premature hope. Opening wide his small muzzle, he started up his cries once more, louder and more pathetic than ever.
Mystic jerked her hand away, thinking she had done something wrong. When she realized it was just her mannerism, she breathed out another exasperated breath and swept a glance around the feeding grounds. Astriem's bawling had managed to attract quite a bit of attention by then. Gritting her teeth, the mage let out a long, slow, calming breath, and tried again to sooth the frightened ryshathian.
"I'm not going to hurt you." She promised, reaching out a second time to rub Astriem's head. She knew that Hathians had a soft spot just under their eyeridges that was especially pleasurable when scratched. Finding this spot, she managed to curb As' cries a little bit. He voluntarily leaned his head towards her. "I'm the one who's going to take you two home and care for you. You'll be happy where we're going. There's lots of your kin there, and I'm sure they'll be eager to meet you. First, though, I have to get you fed. Now, are you going to stop this crying and let me pick you up?"
Astriem sniffled, whined, hiccupped, and fixed her with a doleful stare. He did stop crying eventually, distracted by the rhythmic press of her fingers under his eyeridge. Gulping back a sob, he nodded his small head and leaned closer to the mage. She had a nice smile when she wasn't yelling at him.
Gingerly, the mage scooped Astriem up in her arms and cradled him against her chest. She held him with one arm cupped under his tail and the other wrapped around his back, resting his head on her shoulder as she would a child. Gathering her feet beneath her, Mystic stood slowly, cooing to the ryshathian all the while. She paused before heading off to the nearest meat bowl, an irritated glance spared for the still tear-eyed Gail'.
"Magika, would you...?" She asked with a glance back at her best friend. Magika crossed her arms and raised a brow, wordlessly asking Mystic if she'd lost her mind. The red robed woman sighed, her mouth twitching at the corners into a smile. As she returned her gaze to the colourful hydra sitting in the snow at her feet, the smile vanished.
"You'll just have to follow along." She told Gail' with a no-nonsense tone of voice.
Gail' hiccupped and nodded all three of her minute, rainbow heads. She wasn't crying because she was scared, though the woman's rant had been loud and made Astriem cry. She cried because he was scared and she couldn't help him. Now Astriem seemed to have settled down, his fuzzy thoughts twining around her own. He'd worried about her getting hurt. The mage had, after all, sworn vengeance against all hydras. Gail'brytixko thanked whatever god watched over her that she wasn't fully hydra.
Mystic turned away after a curt nod and began making her way through the crowd, Astriem cuddling into the crook of her neck. Magika followed close on her heels, lest she be distracted by someone who had a problem parting with the money they had willingly bet with her. That left Gail' to waddle after them in their tracks, spreading her wings for balance and lifting her two tails above the cold, wet snow. If she had known that the next few years of her life would be exactly like this, Astriem being coddled and her being left to fend for herself, she might have turned around right then and marched back into her egg. She didn't know, though, so Gail' marched gamely onward. So long as she had As', she knew she could survive anything.
Her patience would be duly tested soon enough.
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